


We've Got Tonight

by koalahugs



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalahugs/pseuds/koalahugs
Summary: [MariClaude Week 2020] Day 5: ComfortMarianne and Claude find much needed comfort in one another's presence the day before the wedding.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10
Collections: MariClaude Week





	We've Got Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend reading this while listening to We've Got Tonite - Kenny Rogers and Sheen Easton or the Glee version (which is what I used to write this)

Taking slow steps back to his room in Derdriu’s finest inn, Claude brushes a hand through his hair. The thick waves ripple between his fingers. He lets out a heavy a sigh. Tomorrow was the big day. He continues on, feeling the weight of his footsteps. He hopes that none of the other patrons are too bothered by his steps. The rehearsal dinner he was just returning from was exhausting. Despite his own important role, he knows everyone who had attended must have been just as tired. It went for much longer than expected. Who would have thought that of all people, it would be Margrave Edmund, who would be a stickler for wedding traditions? He was known for being an innovator, coming up with new ideas and new policies; Rather than taking the popular road or the road less taken, he was known to create his own path. Today, Claude saw a new side of the noble. He commanded the entire rehearsal dinner, following each Fódlan wedding tradition down to smallest detail. He pitied all those who were selected by the Margrave, as they were under the most scrutiny. Then again, because of his position, he would also be under much scrutiny.

Claude suddenly realizes he is well past his room. Why is he still wandering around? The morning would be an incredibly important morning. Now was not the time for mindless meandering. For whatever reason, he cannot bring himself to turn around and head back to his assigned room. He finds himself at the very end of the hall, face to face with a door. The door’s handle is adorned with a small wreath of white flowers. Lily of the Valley. His eyes dart up when the door opens.

His eyes stop at the pink eyes already looking at him. “Claude, what are you doing here?”

“Ah, Hilda. I was just-“

“You know, you of all people should not be here, Claude.” Hilda leans forward and jabs a finger into his chest, “We need to be up early tomorrow, go get some rest.” Hilda slides to his side and makes her way down the hall. He glances over his shoulder, and waits for her to disappear. She is right. He knows she is right; yet his hand raises on its own accord and stops the door from shutting and locking him out. He lets himself in. The room is silent. No one there to greet him. He steps forward and sees the candle light around the corner. He approaches it quietly. Carefully.

Claude comes to the door frame, from which the candle light. He places his left elbow on the door frame, leaning his head into the back of his forearm. His torso rests on the door frame, as he shifts his weight onto his left leg. He trains his eyes on the mirror directly across from him.

Brown eyes flick up and meet his reflection. They look at one another through the view of the mirror. So close, yet so far. Marianne von Edmund sits on a vanity across from him. She continues to brush out her hair. As the brush goes through her hair, the wiry tangles, smooth. As soon as the brush reaches the end, her blue hair bounces back into gentle curls. He watches her slow and delicate movements. She continues to brush the same bunch of strands several times, before pulling another bundle of her thick hair to smooth it out. He follows as she takes a hand pulls her hair over her right shoulder, to smooth them out in that direction. Marianne looks so peaceful. Serene, is the word that comes to his mind. In fact, she does not seem at all bothered by his presence. She does not protest that he is watching her, the night before the wedding. Traditionally, he should not be here.

After all, it is most improper for another man to be in the bride’s room.

Claude sighs. “I know it’s late, I know you’re weary.” Marianne stops, mid stroke. Her eyes connect with his, again through the mirror. “I know your plans don’t include me.”

Marianne runs the brush through her hair to complete. “Still, here we are,” gently, as she always is, she places the brush on the vanity. “Both of us lonely.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, the girl stands. Claude makes note of the gown she is wearing. Not her usual attire. She is wearing a pale blue dress, her signature colour. The sleeves, made of an intricate lace pattern, cutting off just at her elbows. The gown flows out just at her waist, showing her shapely upper half, but flowing elegantly around her legs, like a waterfall’s mist circling her every movement. She makes her way to the another set of doors that lead to a balcony. Claude follows after her. Marianne presses both her palms on the cold steel rails that line the balcony. She shifts her weight to her left. Claude stands next to her. His left hand raises and rests on his hip. They both look out to view. The beautiful clear waters of the aquatic capital. A prime view, for the beautiful bride-to-be, he thinks. They stay silent. What is one supposed to say in this moment, in this situation. He cannot talk about what they could be, what they should be. He does not want to talk about why they are not. She does not want to talk about what should be her big day tomorrow.

As Claude loses his thoughts in the dark sky over Derdriu waters, Marianne shifts her look up to vast night sky. “Look at the stars,” Marianne whispers, “So far away”. Claude’s trance break, and he finally turns his head to look at her. From her side profile, he knows she is beautiful. Her porcelain skin, bright against the dark blue sky. Her cornflower hair, falls on her shoulders and down her back. This might be the first time he’s seen her with her hair down. Will it be his last? He hopes not. He continues to look at her, taking in all her features. Her jawline is a soft angle, her nose pointed but not too sharp. Her lips, a soft peach colour. He sees a small smile. He looks up at the sky. They are far away. Usually the stars feel like they are within reach – like he could reach up and grab a handful. If only he could. He would wish for this night to never end, for tomorrow to never come. It has been a long time since Claude has ever felt so helpless. No schemes could change this outcome, no plans could stop what tomorrow will bring. The day he loses her.

* * *

Three years ago, Claude von Reigan and the Golden Deer won the war against the empire. Three years ago, they ended the threat of Nemesis, the King of Liberation. As soon as the festivities were over, he was overjoyed at the Alliance’s unity, something they had not had before. As soon as he had he finished his business in the Leicester territory, Claude left and ascended throne, to be the king of Almyra. As a way to establish good relations and sturdy foundation with Fódlan, he collaborated with Margrave Edmund to create trade routes and merchant treaties. In that time, he had gotten close to Marianne. Her contribution to their planning, her talent for diplomacy and politics, her passion for helping him led to him falling in love. Deeply in love. For Marianne, she had initially wanted to help him as helped her. But she found his presence a comfort, his swashbuckling attitude and confidence led her seeing him as something other than her leader and a king. For Marianne he was like a story, that she wanted see through until the end.

Two years ago, Claude announced his intention to ask for Marianne’s hand in marriage to his parents and his advisors. Other than his father, all strongly opposed. His mother acknowledged that she was being a hypocrite, but she did not want her grandchildren to suffer as he did. She wanted her grandchildren to be unconditionally accepted, and marrying an Almyran noblewoman would ensure the support of the people. The advisors agreed. They also felt it would be unsuitable that the heirs to the throne would have more Fódlan blood than Almyran. He told Marianne of the protests against their relationship. But he had planned to abdicate the throne, to wed her. Share his life with her.

 _“What life would you share with me, if you cast the life you worked so hard for away.”_ Marianne’s words shocked him. She refused his proposal. She refused his plan. She refused to be the reason that all his hard work come to an end. But, it is for love. Love will not return the years, the blood, sweat and tears shed to earn the respect of Almyra. To be the king she knows he was always meant to be.

He tried to stop her. Claude tried to change her mind. _“What if you are my new dream.”_

Marianne is adamant. _“What is the weight of a new dream, compared to a life-long one?”_ Two years ago, Claude von Reigan’s heart was broken.

One year ago, Margrave Edmund revealed that he had found a suitable noble for Marianne to marry. _“Is this what you want?”_ Claude knows Marianne still loves him. He still loves her. Although it tore into him to look at her ever since she rejected him, he did not want her to leave his side.

Margrave has his reasons. He wants to secure a good future, for Marianne. He wants to ensure the one she marries will take care of her, respect her, cherish her. He wants a man who will respect that Marianne will be the heir to the Edmund estate and business. Margrave Edmund found a man who was willing to consolidate his family’s land to Margrave Edmund as a dowry, as well as promise he would be a good husband. The Margrave, after much scrutiny accepts. _“Is this what you want?”_

_“No.”_

* * *

“Claude?”

He slowly turns his head to face her. She is already looking at him. Her brown eyes sparkle, despite the melancholy air. “Will you go for a walk with me?”

He smiles at her. Smiling at her, has always been so easy. “Of course.”

The two quietly exit the inn, so as not to bring too much attention to themselves. As the daughter of Margrave Edmund, Marianne’s wedding was one that was well known, which meant she was well known to the public. Claude having once been the Archduke of the Leicester Alliance, and now the Almyran King was a high-profile guest, as well. Claude pulls off his yellow jacket and drapes it over Marianne’s shoulders once they are outside. Night time by the waters leads to colder temperatures. Marianne thanks him. They stay silent. He follows her. She follows him. They wander, no destination in mind.

In spite of the silence, they are comfortable together. The silence rarely bothered her, she rather enjoyed it. Although he usually preferred to talk, preferred to ask questions and get answers, Marianne soothed him. She made him see that there is value in the silence. It gives him time to observe his surroundings. It gives him time to process his own thoughts, that are often in the mess of constantly thinking of what to say. It gives him time to appreciate who he is with. Right now, he with Marianne. The woman he believes is the love of his life.

Marianne enjoys the silence with Claude. Although tomorrow she would promise herself to another man, her heart belongs to Claude. In this silent walk, she can appreciate all the time they had together. She uses this time recollect the memories. The time the reunited at her father’s home. When they started bonding over navigating the puzzles of fair trades and exchange of currency. She remembers riding horses beside him as he waited for her father’s other meetings to finish. Initially, he would arrive early as a courtesy. As time went on, he would arrive earlier and earlier. She was not sure if it was just to spend time with her, but she admitted to herself she liked to think it was intentionally to spend time with her. Soon casual horseback riding, led to riding his pure white wyvern, the partner of Almyran royalty.

She remembered when they took their first flight together. Her stomach fluttered as she held his waist tightly. She could not remember if her heart had been racing because of how close she pressed her body to his, or because how fast wyverns were in comparison to pegasi.

What she could not remember was when she fell in love. It happened gradually in the months he would visit Edmund territory. To Marianne falling in love with Claude came as naturally as day fading to night.

Marianne remembered the day he came to the estate without an appointment. He was there for her and not her father, not for planning. That day they flew to quiet spot just between Edmund and Reigan territory; a quiet and remote coast. That day they spent waiting for the sunset. The view forever etched into her memory. The sky clear, the horizon far. That day, with the setting sun as witness, Claude changed her life forever, _“Marianne, I love you.”_

Was that the start of their unofficial official relationship? They agreed to keep it a secret, so as not disrupt Claude’s partnership and relationship with Margrave Edmund. After every meeting, the two would steal away.

Claude also reminisces as they roam: their first fight. Claude knows what he’s like. He knows he is charming, charismatic. One day, at a celebration held by their dear professor Claude ran into an old classmate. The girl’s eyes batted at him, he returned her energy. Marianne noticed and had not spoken to him for the rest of the day. The next time he came for an appointment with the Margrave, Claude arrived early as usual. Unlike usual, Marianne was not there to greet him. One of the maids said she was out riding. He figured she went riding earlier and lost track of time. It’s fine, it happens. However, once his meeting was over, she was not there to meet him. Another servant explained she had returned in the middle of his meeting retreated to her room. She was tired, he understood. It’s fine, it happens. But when it happens three time in a row, something is amiss. After his meeting, he bids the Margrave farewell. Instead of leaving, he rounds the corner, and finds the window he knows leads to Marianne’s room.

Thank goodness for the tree right by her room. Thank goodness Petra taught him to climb back in the Academy days. Claude, clumsily climbs the tree, pulling himself onto a thick branch. He slides himself as far as he can go without the tree branch dipping from his weight. The window is too far for him tap. He snaps a twig off the tree, and throws. Marianne opens the window and stares incredulously. _“I’m tired.”_ She explains. Before she can close the window, he calls for her. He knows her, he asks why she is avoiding him. Marianne stares at him, before sighing and turning away. He calls for her again. No response. He shouts her name. Nothing. Claude starts to mutter to himself.

“ _What?”_ She calls to him at the bottom of the tree. Claude sighs in relief. Climbing down will be the hard part. He hears her laugh as he awkwardly shimmies back to the tree trunk. As he shuffles down, one of the branches he plants his foot on snaps. Shocked, Claude lets go of the branch he’s holding. He lets out a yell as he falls the rest of the way down. Lucky for him it was not a far fall. He hears Marianne shout his name, he feels her hands on his face. She starts gently tapping his cheek. He stays silent, eyes closed. “ _Claude, wake up!”_ He hears the panic in her voice, but he’s already committed to feigning his lost consciousness. “ _Please. Please. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”_

Claude is starting to feel bad, but again, he’s committed. “ _I didn’t like how you… how you were with that girl. But, that doesn’t mean I should have ignored you. You’re…”_ One of her hands is on his chest. “ _You’re not mine, anyways.”_

It’s not like he can commit forever. Claude’s eyes snap open, and he sits up. _“Claude! You’re okay!”_

 _“No, I’m not.”_ She presses her hand on his back, and begins to press various areas. He grunts when she finds a tender spot. She plants the rest of her hand on the spot. A casting circle surrounds her wrist as she heals him. “ _It’s not that, Marianne. I mean, it’s painful – or it was – but that’s not it.”_

She ignores him as she now starts to palpate his neck and the back of his head. “ _Marianne, I’m sorry for being… too charming with that girl. I really am. I’ll be careful from now on.”_

_“Don’t change for me, Claude.”_

_“I’m not changing for you. I want to be more careful, for us.”_

When she’s done checking him, she sits on her heels and looks at him. “ _Did you fake being unconscious.”_ She's not asking.

 _“I wanted your attention.”_ Marianne sighs as she pushes of the ground and readies herself to leave. Claude grabs her wrist, stopping her from leaving. She turns around looks at him, sitting on the ground. His clothes are mess from dirt and the fall. His hair unruly, probably because of how much work it took climbing up and down the tree. “ _Wait… what did you mean, I’m not yours?”_

A blush creeps over Marianne’s nose and across her cheeks. She would not have said that if she knew he was actually awake. She turns away from him. Her heart pounds against her ribcage. She feels so embarrassed about this. She does not want to be here anymore. She tries to pull away from him, but his grip tightens. It does not hurt, but his hold is firm. _“Marianne, what do you mean I’m not yours?”_

 _“Of course, I’m yours. I hope… I hope you’re mine.”_ She gasps and turns to look at him. She looks straight into his bright green eyes. Sincere. He’s being sincere. No jokes, no sarcasm. No scheme. He means exactly what he said. His grip on her wrist loosens. As soon as he lets go, she goes back onto her knees and looks right at him. No longer checking for any untruths, she leans forward.

“ _I’m yours.”_ She whispers as she presses her lips against his.

Despite the circumstance, despite his own frivolousness; there was nothing about their first kiss – his first kiss – that he would change. He cannot help but smile. He remembers how shocked he was that she would be so bold. Throughout the years, Marianne was hardly recognizable from who she was in their academy days. In the Academy, she was quiet, self-punishing. This Marianne, can hold a conversation. In fact, she is quite skilled in the art of conversation. When she chose to speak, she had so much control over her words. She is eloquent and always knows what to say. However, Claude did not expect she would be so bold as to initiate something so intimate. In their years, together Marianne was not one to be overly physical. Other than occasional kisses, the farthest the had gone were embraces and hand holding. 

Before either of them know it, they are at the port. The go up the stairs and stand in the center of the gazebo like structure. Claude looks down, when he feels the weight of Marianne’s head on his shoulder. He knows she is sad. He is, too. However, Claude would not let these last moments be filled with wasteful self-pity. He slides his hand into her. She instinctively wraps her fingers around his hand. He smiles at the gentle pressure of her hand. He steps forward, then pivots so he is standing immediately in front of her. He tilts his head as he smiles at her. She looks at him, unsure about what he is about to do. He raises their hands and stretches them out. His free hand takes her other hand and brings it up to rest on his shoulder. He now places his hand on her hip. He steps forward. She clumsily steps back. He steps forward, again. Now she is beginning to understand what is happening. She steps back. When he steps right, she follows in sync. Now he steps back, back again. Now he steps to the left. Each of his movements, she follows suite.

Reading one another, their hands slide down each other’s arms, and they pull apart. Then come together - his right shoulder, touches hers. When they pull apart again He drops one of her hands and twirls her. As her twirl finishes, her dress flowing and swirling around her, they return to the first position. These are the exact movements of the first dance she rehearsed earlier this evening. He was there the entire practice. He could admit to himself, that jealousy pitted in his stomach watching her dance with another man; in the arms of another man.

They continued these same movements for a few more cycles. Claude decides to change pace, when Marianne returns to first position, instead of taking her hand, Claude grasps around waist and brings them hip to hip, and he lifts her and he spins. Her hands grab his shoulder tightly, as she has never been lifted before. He lets her back on her feet gently. One arm remains around her waist while the other travels up to between her shoulder blades and he dips her down. One of Marianne’s hand grasps his arm, the other climbs up his arm, over his neck and rests on his cheek. Their eyes stay connected as she lets herself follow his movement. He holds her there for a moment, admiring how her hair spills down, off her shoulder and bounces. Her blue waves mimicking the ocean surrounding them. His eyes travel up to stay on her peachy lips. His tilts his head and dips down, but pauses. Is this what she wants?

She answers by tilting her head up and inching closer to him. In a rush of emotion, sadness, longing, happiness, love; Claude pulls her back up to stand straight, the hand on her back now wraps around her shoulders as he pulls her close. The hand on his arm is now on his other cheek – Marianne pulls his in and they share a passionate kiss. 

Have they ever kissed like this? All of today Marianne has felt so lonely. Deep down, in the very pit of her soul, Marianne has felt so lonely. Her hands wrap around Claude’s neck and she tightens her hold, as if it will bring him closer. Will time stop for them. Their lips slightly part, as they gasp for breath. Marianne tilts her head in the opposite direction, to flip her hair out of the way. She gasps when Claude’s lips take hold of her lower lip. He suckles it gently, his tongue sliding over her soft skin. Marianne opens her lips, to allow his tongue to push against hers. She feels him lean forward, pushing himself deeper into her hold. One hand grasps at the thick waves of hair on the back of his head. She grabs a fistful of his hair, as if doing so she can hold onto all her hope. All of her hopes are fading away.

They pull apart from one another, gasping for air. Claude places chaste kisses on her lips between each breath. “I’ve longed for love; like everyone else does…” She whispers. Is she whispering to him? To the moon and stars? “I know, I’ll keep searching after today.”

“So, there it is. We’ve said it all, now.” They both straighten out. Marianne’s hold on Claude’s neck remains. She comes closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He rests his cheek on her head, the arm that was around her shoulders, falls to embrace her around her waist.

They stand like this, for who knows how long. Not long enough for either of them.

“We’ve got it all, now.” Claude says after a while. Marianne lifts her head and looks at him. He smiles at her, the cheeky grin he usually had when he had a plan.

She cocks a brow at him and tilts her head, “All our stuff, everything , it’s back at the inn.”

Marianne’s eyes widen. Surely, he is not suggesting – “What do you say?”

The two lovers rush back, hand in hand to the inn. The sneak back in dart for her room first. Marianne grabs a bag, and begins to pack away her hair brush, her pouch of pins and ties. Claude walks in, his bag hanging around shoulder. He drops it to the ground and goes straight into her arms. Marianne welcomes him into a tight embrace, and places a quick kiss on his lips. She approaches a chest near the bed and opens it, she has very few clothes back away. Most of them just gowns. She reaches in and first packs away her ankle boots and stockings. She then grabs her shawl and stuffs it into her bag. She is well aware of how impulsive and stupid this is. But, she decides to throw caution to the wind. This is what she wants, this is what she deeply wants. She feels reassured when Claude wraps his arms around her waist and places a kiss on her hair.

She pulls out one of her gowns, deep blue long sleeved dress. She folds it up hastily. Claude takes it from her and packs it into her bag. He picks up the bag and walks to her vanity. He looks at what else she may want to bring. He decides against packing her wedding jewellery. The least they can do is leave that. He also does not want a memento of the time she almost belonged to another man. No, is his. He is hers. Instead, Claude picks up a brooch he knows she has always owned. She used to always wear it on her chest, to clasp her shawl together.

They exchange a smile when Marianne approaches him she lifts her hands, and shows him what she has left. His smile deepens. What a familiar look. In one hand is her basic light blue underdress, and the navy blue intricate over-piece, the outfit she wore for most of the war. He takes them from her and places them in the bag. He rolls his sleeves up to his shoulders. She asks if he wants his yellow jacket back, but he declines. She nods and pulls her arms into the much larger sleeves. Claude slings Marianne’s bag over his shoulder, then goes to pick up his bag. He stretches his free hand out to Marianne. She smiles as she takes it, the intertwine fingers and proceed to head out. Marianne touches the door frame Claude had initially leaned on at the beginning of the evening.

The around the corner and head towards the door. Marianne reaches for the handle, but before she can take hold of it, Claude’s tightens the fingers around her hand. She turns to look at his hand then him. His eyes look forward. His jaw clenching, and his chin tucked down. He has a hard stare. She blinks at him, before she turns to look at what he is staring so deeply at. A cold chill travels down her back, as her stomach drops.

Her wedding dress.

Reality dawns on the star-crossed lovers. This is not right. They have responsibilities. Claude is still the king of Almyra. Marianne is still the heir to Edmund. There are people who are counting on them. If they go through with this, other will pay. Is it worth their happiness.

Marianne wraps her arms around Claude’s arm. “This… isn’t happening, is it.”

Claude looks bows his head down and looks at the floor. Now that her hand isn’t in his, he grips tightly, feeling his fingernails burying into his skin. This isn’t happening. He has a whole country waiting for him. He has his throne to go back to. There are people who await his return and rule. No, this isn’t happening. He hears a sniffle. He tilts his head to look at the girl holding his arm. He sees a tear fall down her cheek, another one pooling in her eye. He reaches up and wipes it away.

No, this is not happening.

Marianne does not move when Claude wipes a tear from her cheek. She stares forward. Broken. Forlorn. All of her hopes have faded away. She knows her father is counting on this marriage. She knows he has her best interests at heart. If only Claude were not the king.

No, she is happy is king. He’s earned this. His harsh childhood and mistreatment, he deserves this. He worked hard to push past the prejudice. He climbed the ranks and found himself as heir to Duke Reigan, united Fódlan, then returned. Tried and true, worthy to lead the kingdom of Almyra. She loves that about him. Everything he’s accomplished is through his hard work and efforts. She would not wish any less for him, even if it cost her happiness.

Such is the pain of a love not meant to be.

Claude pulls his arm out of her grip and drapes in over her shoulder. She tucks herself into him, trying her best to hold back the tears, but failing. She does not sob, she does not weep; nevertheless, the tears fall. Claude drops their bags, and brings that arm around her back. He tucks his head into her, and lets a few tears of his own fall. They hold one another tightly. Hoping time will stop. Claude would even pray to the Fódlan goddess to stop time. To stop time and let this last forever. Marianne breathes in, then breathes out. “We’ve got tonight. Why don’t you stay?”

Claude lifts his head. He can hear it in her voice. She is absolutely serious. Claude removes one hand from waist, and holds her shoulder. He pulls her off him, but she keeps her head down. He takes the hand on her shoulder and hooks a finger under her chin, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “We’ve got tonight,” He grins, “Who needs tomorrow?”

Marianne lets out a laugh through the tears. It is like him to try and defuse the sorrow. His grin works, though. She wipes the tears from her eyes and nods at him. “Let’s make it last. We’ll find a way.” She pushes herself off and away from him. She picks up her bag and heads back to small room where the bed is. He watches her. He’s been watching her, keeping his eyes trained on her retreating figure. Before she disappears around the corner, she turns back to Claude. They lock eyes.

Marianne takes a deep breath in. She pauses for a moment, her eyes searching his. Marianne has a thousand thoughts racing, and she hopes he will have the answers in his eyes. She finds no answers there. She looks away from him and looks at the vanity mirror. This is where he stood at the beginning of the evening. The evening she would cherish for the rest of her life. If only she could have been Almyran. If only she could go to there and explain why she would be a suitable wife and queen for Claude. She would learn the language, learn the culture. She would raise their children Almyran. She would raise them with Almyran values, Almyran attitudes. Even the things she found odd. If only. But what could if-only's do for her now. She looks at herself in the reflection. Tomorrow, she will wed a man she hardly know, and does not love; what will if-only's do for her future. With new resolve, she will not this night end with and if only. She turns back to Claude. “Turn out the light.”

He nods and obliges, he reaches up covers the flame of the candle in the hallway. The flame dies and the hallway is now dark. Only the faint glow of the candle on the vanity lighting Marianne. What sight for him. He drinks her in, committing her looks to memory. He looks at her hands. Her fingers, long and dainty; and yet she is still so clumsy. Her nose from the front view curves gently and points slightly upward. Her lips have most beautiful cupid’s bow, dipping down. The lips he had just been placing kisses on. Her eyes are deep, and sincere. No lies hide behind them. In her eyes, he sees her the woman he deeply loves. His thoughts are interrupted when she reaches her hand out to him. “Come, take my hand.”

Without thinking, Claude approaches her and takes her hand. She reaches with her other hand, holding his single in hand in both hers. She pulls him with her and she walks backwards to her bed. When she feels the back of her knees hit the bed she stops. She traces one hand up his arm and wraps it around his neck, the other one joining soon after. She pulls him in close. “We’ve got tonight. Why don’t you… stay?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand alone fic, completely outside the MariClaude mini-series. But, I got heavily inspired and had to smash this out.
> 
> I did write what happens at night as Claude stays with Marianne for the night. I didn't want to add, to keep the.. forlorn and longing feeling? I don't know if I'll end up posting it, maybe I will as a second chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
